


A Stolen Bedtime Story

by everythingmurky



Series: Time demi-Lord [10]
Category: Broadchurch, Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 07:11:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10354938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingmurky/pseuds/everythingmurky
Summary: The Doctor reads a bedtime story.Aka, Not About the Book set in the actual Child of Time universe.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So after I finished a few other things, I realized it was past time to fix the mistake I'd made in putting this story out without the crossover/AU references, because really... it suffered from me trying to make it generic when it isn't. The girl was always Daisy, the Doctor was always pretending to be Hardy to have a moment with her, and it should have been more like this.
> 
> This isn't that great, either, but it frames it better than it was before, and if I get past this and the epilogue, I think I can finally finish a third thing. Maybe.

* * *

“I think we might want to have a word with Alec about his choice of babysitter,” Rose said, looking at the teen that hadn't so much as lifted her head when the TARDIS materialized in the Hardy home. She shook her head as she looked back at the Doctor, tempted to laugh.

She was pretty sure that nine hundred year old alien was nervous.

“You have what you need?” Rose asked, and he nodded, holding up the book. He'd insisted on going to find an original copy like the one his son had used with his daughter, and that side trip had almost gotten London invaded. Again. “And you're sure you want me along? You're passing yourself off as him. I can't do that.”

The Doctor smiled at her, crossing to her side. He picked up her TARDIS key. “She shouldn't even see you, and you have a right to be there, too.”

Rose nodded, though she still found it a bit weird that she had a granddaughter when she wasn't even twenty-five yet. She had lost track of her age, that much was true, but she still wasn't old enough for grandchildren.

“Come on. I bet she's adorable at this age,” the Doctor said, and Rose didn't say how little she liked kids, following after him as he went to the bedroom, wondering what color it would be if Alec had told the truth about her banning the color pink.

She saw TARDIS blue on the walls and almost laughed. Oh, Daisy was so the Doctor's granddaughter.

* * *

“You're late.”

The sight of the child, all of five years, hands on her hips, nothing but ginger and pout, made the Doctor smile. He was right. Daisy was adorable at this age. He almost forgot to adjust his accent before he spoke. “Sorry, love.”

“No, Mum is love. I'm _darling,”_ the girl insisted, and he laughed, unable to stop himself even as she glared at him. Then the eyes got wide and vulnerable and almost like a kick in the gut. “You didn't forget, did you?”

“'Course not, Darling,” he said, liking the way that word rolled off his tongue. And it was perfect for her, just the thing, the _exact_ thing that she should be called, this little bit of miracle and wonder. “Just teasing.”

“Mum says you shouldn't tease because you don't know how,” she said, and that did sound quite like she'd recited it verbatim from someone else. “She's wrong. You do, when you're not grumpy or sad. But you're always grumpy.”

“Not sad?” the Doctor asked, sitting down next to the bed. He had a feeling his son was more sad than his granddaughter knew, even with their bond.

“Being sad makes you grumpy,” she proclaimed, very solemn, and the Doctor had to fight not to laugh when she did.

“Yes,” he agreed. “It does. Now... I'm told you have a very specific book and only that book will do when it comes to bedtime stories.”

She frowned. “Did you lose my book again?”

“Oh, no,” the Doctor assured her quickly, reaching into his pocket and taking out the book again. He knew how important this was. “See? Book.”

She frowned. “That's not our book.”

“Yes, it is,” the Doctor said, knowing he'd gotten a copy of the right one. He'd had that lecture, and he wasn't making that mistake, no. Not when he would disappoint more than one person who was important to him.

“I marked on it. Right there. You were mad.”

The Doctor sighed. So much for getting a new copy. “You're right, Darling. The thing is, though, that this book—simple, colorful, brilliant as it is—also has this nice feature where if you mark it, you can wash it off. Isn't that fantastic?”

She gave him a distrustful look, and he supposed he deserved it. He wasn't actually her father, he was her grandfather, and he was cheating just to be able to see her one more time before he forgot everything. 

He opened the cover and held it out in front of her as she settled back on her pillow. “'Thomas was a tank engine who lived at a big station. He had six small wheels, a short stumpy funnel, a short stumpy boiler, and a short stumpy—'”

“Remember to do the voices,” she said through a tired yawn. “You're better at them than Mum is.”

“Of course,” he agreed. He didn't think it would matter, as she was already half asleep already. He picked up his reading, and sure enough, before he got two paragraphs down where Thomas was teasing Gordon, she was out.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead, leaning back to brush back more of her hair. “Night, Daisy.”

* * *

As much as Rose didn't want to ruin the moment, she had to, since they didn't know what that girl who was supposed to be watching Daisy would do if she saw the TARDIS, and they had a few things to do yet before they forgot all about this.

She took her phone and snapped another picture as the Doctor watched his granddaughter sleep—he was about as adorable as she was, honestly, and Rose was glad she'd been here to see it.

“Doctor?”

“I know,” he said, forcing himself up and away from the bed. He gave Daisy another kiss before rejoining Rose. “Remind me, when we do remember again, that I want to give her something from me. Not a book. Better than a book—”

“You know you're giving him—”

“Yes, but that's not hers,” the Doctor said. “I want something that's ours. Just mine and hers.”

“Oh, that's nice.”

“Sorry. You can—”

“No, really,” Rose told him. “It's nice. We'll have to figure that out when we can actually remember. And... maybe by then, I'll know how to feel about all this.”

The Doctor took her hand and led her back to the TARDIS. “I already know how I feel, Rose. And I have to thank you for that, for making this possible. I owe you... everything.”

“Fine. Then you're buying me chips.”


End file.
